Cloud of Unknowing
by We Are The Dury
Summary: Platonic 2Nu. 2D and Noodle are reunited after years of separation. Then, tragedy strikes.
1. Chapter 1

Stuart dashed across the mangled study. Books were lying in heaps below the shelves, and pieces of the ceiling littered the floor. His heart raced and his clothes were still damp from his narrow escape. A whale had breached his underwater prison. He had barely been able to make it out before drowning or worse . . . being eaten alive by one of the largest and most terrifying monsters on earth.

2D's dark eyes flitted across the room. What should he grab, where should he– a pile of books from beneath the desk shifted. "Bloody hell," Murdoc's curses were barely audible over the sound of gunfire and planes from outside. Panic washed over him. Ignoring his captor, 2D ran to the window.

Through the thin layer of grime on the pane, he could make out a ship a stone's throw away from the longest pier. The vessel was sinking. As the deck grew closer to the foul smelling waves, the whole ship seemed to be disappearing, a dark fog taking its place. A chill ran down Stu's spine. Panic turned to dread that chewed at his stomach. What is the world was going on? He thought being eaten by a large aquatic mammal was the most of his concerns but no.

Plastic Beach was under attack from pirates, demons, demon pirates, and –is that the military?– and probably the military. Shards of glass and flaming garbage flew past the window and bullets traced its curved frame.

2D threw himself away from the window before the rounds could find the pane of glass. An explosion from nearby carved a long crack in the ceiling that reached across the entire study. He jumped on top of the desk and grabbed the ladder that led to the roof.

"There is two of them," Murdoc rasped under the layers of pages. "I can't believe – can't soddin' believe it . . ."

Leaving Murdoc behind, Stu struggled up to the last floor.

At the top of the ladder, he found that the hatch was unlocked and opened. Murdoc had probably fallen through it. He peered over the top and was splashed by oil. He wiped the onyx grease out of his eyes and found himself face to face with Cyborg.

She was lying on her side, a steady stream of black from her forehead traced morbid patterns onto the plastic floor. At a glance, he noticed that one of her legs was missing and one arm was barely attached. Both electric eyes were open wide, but were beginning to flicker as the fuel and life drained from the artificial body.

Just beyond the robot, crouched a masked, small-framed woman. She had some sort of gun in one hand, and a long piece of railing in the other. Her shoulders were shaking violently, but whether it was from emotions or exhaustion wasn't clear.

Tnk!

Bringing his attention back to Cyborg, 2D noticed that it was holding a small, metal ring triumphantly above its head with its one good arm.

The woman suddenly lunged backwards. Surprised by her movement, Stuart's foot slipped from the ladder. He caught himself a few feet from the ground and began to climb back up. The instant his hand met the last rung, he was blinded and shook free from the steps by a detonation directly overhead. He lay sprawled atop the desk, ears ringing and debris pelting him from the open hatch. Stuart noticed that Murdoc was no longer in the room once he sat up.

He used the bottom rung of the ladder to pull himself to his feet. This was quite an ordeal considering the height of the singer and trauma induced balance loss. 2D staggered up the oil peppered ladder once more and was greeted by a completely different scene than before.

Where the cyborg had rested was a large, discolored burn in the previously white floor. Putrid smelling smoke ascended from the charred remains of the robot strewn around the site of the explosion. The gun and beam used by the mask bearer had been swept to the side, but their wielder was nowhere to be seen. The only thing 2D could hear over the ringing in his ears was his heartbeat.

The blue-haired train-wreck clambered onto the roof and scanned around the perimeter of the platform. On the far end, the balustrade was torn away. As 2D stumbled over to the edge, two jets rocketed past the mansion and back out to sea. He reached the gap in the railing and he spotted a pair of hands clinging to a jagged copper bar that was exposed from the wall.

She was hanging there. Forty feet stood between her stocking feet and smoldering piles of rubbish. Stuart reached out, and she took hold of his hand. Her knuckles were covered in deep gashes that dripped crimson onto the blank stare of the mask.

She was light and strong. With little effort, he was able to pull her up and get her upper body onto a stable surface. He grasped her other hand, preparing to help her to the rest of the way up. One final airplane circled the island and dropped a bomb onto the beach. The entire island rattled.

The mask fell from the dark haired stranger and slipped over the edge. The woman's head snapped up and her eyes met 2D's. One of her green eyes was framed by the gnarled shadow of a burn. Blood ran across her temple and down her neck. Her furiously determined glare softened at the befuddled gaze and slightly dropped jaw of the singer. A flicker of recognition then doubt flashed across his eyes. It couldn't really be . . .

The grip on her hands loosened and then clenched tighter than before.

"N-Nood–"

Stuart was cut off by another bomb detonating on the upper part of the landmass. The structure lurched violently and Noodle was sent back over the edge. She slid farther down until only her arms were on the roof. The sound of shrieking metal and twisting plastic would have been deafening. 2D was bracing himself to pull her back up when he noticed how the color was draining from her face. She shuddered once, and then her hands released their grip. Her eyes were wide and terrified, not unlike those of a child or a wounded animal. There was a metallic snap. The copper rod, that saved her before, had embedded itself in her abdomen and broke away from the wall.

There was a brief pause. The fading planes, the ship's spreading fog, the flying ashes and debris – it all slowed to a halt. The world was nothing more than whisper of a melancholy tune and a horrifyingly abstract piece of art. As soon as the realization was there, everything sped back up to normal speed. Noodle's fingertips left 2D's, her face pale and still as a mask.

Then she fell.


	2. Chapter 1 - Part 2

Noodle crouched a few feet away from the cyborg. It slumped to the ground next to the opening in the roof. The clone struggled to get up. Lacking the energy and limbs to succeed this task, it fell back to the floor, and twitched twice before going completely still. Dark smoke poured out of the dark, purple hair of the copy.

The copy. It was made to look and fight identical to Noodle. Was she really replaceable? She had literally gone to Hell and back for this band –her family – just to find her spot filled by a robotic version of herself. What else had changed? Russel was a giant. The bassist and singer were nowhere insight. Did someone or a robot replace 2D? Was he even on the island?

The thoughts flitted through her mind like a startled murder of crows, dark and overwhelming. Noodle pulled the mask over her face to block out the smoke that blurred her vision. Exhaling deeply, she realized that it wasn't the smoke that made her eyes water. She sat down her weapons and wrapped her arms around her chest. Tears dripped from under the mask as she struggled to clear her mind and stop trembling.

Hearing something on the other side of the cyborg, Noodle grabbed her firearm and post. She crouched and waited for the newcomer to show themself. Smoke twirled over the metal carcass and slightly parted to reveal an arm. It was the robot's one good arm. Pinched between two of its fingers was the pin to a grenade.

Icy claws of dread gripped her chest in the moment before her super soldier instincts kicked in. She kicked to the side, sending herself out of the way of the explosion, and spotted a gap in the railing. Noodle rolled through it and gripped a piece of pipe in the same instant the grenade served its one purpose. Debris and shrapnel shot over her hands.

One end of the pipe broke free from the wall. Her grip tightened to keep her from sliding. Blood welled from the gashes in her white knuckles. Grunting, she kicked out in search of a foothold, but the side of the wall had been blown away. Planes circled the island. Noodle realized how high up she was and knew that the only thing that would break her fall was flaming rubble and garbage.

The copper bar creaked, threatening to give up. The grimy surface was slick with oil, sweat, and blood. Noodle prepared to pull herself up, but her violently shaking arms protested against it. A couple of low-flying jets shot over her head and out to sea. She listened to their growls fade and wondered how many people were on the island. She had seen pirates, a ship, and a fleet of submarines when she and Russel arrived in the midst of an attack. The reason for the fight and the sides were unknown. Russel had taken out most of the planes that dive-bombed the island. Now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Clumsy shuffling could be heard overhead. The cyborg had managed to get up? That would have been impossible! Noodle felt something brush one of her hands. At first, she hesitated, thinking of all possible consequences. Realizing that it was this or falling to another fiery death, she released her grip and reached out to grab it. It was a hand. Not fused of metal and wires. A real, human hand.

Her grip tightened and Noodle pulled herself up as far as she could before letting go of the pipe and grabbing the other hand that was waiting. After her torso cleared the edge, she was able to relax her aching arms and shoulders. She didn't fall, but was she safe?

The hands didn't let go while Noodle caught her breath. The island jolted. She flinched as she felt the mask slip off her head. Her eyes followed it over the side of the roof and out of sight. She snarled under her breath and looked up to see the owner of the hands.

It was 2D in all of his entire confused, sopping wet demeanor. He was the one who'd pulled her from over the edge. She relaxed a bit, but was started when he tightened the grasp around her hands. There were no proper words could be said to describe how she felt about seeing him again.

Stuart's dark eyes studied her face very closely. What if he didn't reco–

"N-Nood–"

The explosion that cut off his stutter shifted the whole building. Terror grabbed a hold of Noodle as she found herself falling back over the edge. She felt the cold metal of the bar brush against her leg. The pressure suddenly increased as all of her weight was forced upon the pipe.

A flood of searing, white pain washed over her. Immobilized, with a scream caught in her chest, she felt the pipe lurch and give way. Noodle's vision darkened. Glowing red eyes were the last thing she saw before she fell back into into Hell.


	3. Chapter 2

Murdoc had just departed in the Stylo. The black submarine sliced through the polluted water. Flashes of light above made him curious. The captain turned the vessel toward the island. Just one last look at his mansion was all he wanted. Screw everyone and everthi-

There was a small burst of bubbles near the surface of the water many yards away. Murdoc fumbled for the periscope. Looking over the site of the splash, he noticed a wisp of black smoke melting into the fog. Even farther above that was the leaning corpse of his studio. It's formerly pearlescent white walls were cracked and charred.

All of his 'hard work' wasted. Deep down, he knew he deserved it. He had made the deals, and it was him that didn't pay up. On the outside, he would die before he admitted anything close.

Following the trails of smoke from an opening that used to be a window, his gaze settled on the roof. Murdoc sneered. 2D was looking over the edge and screaming.

"The dullard doesn't know how to work the lift," he muttered to himself. Pushing the periscope away, Murdoc returned to piloting the vessel. Looking out the front window, he observed that the bubbles had cleared. There weren't any more detonations churning the water. No other submarines in sight. Most of the debris in the water had already sunk or washed away from the floating landfill.

Where the bubbles had been was a small, white object. It drifted slowly downwards through the filth. As the Stylo edged closer, Murdoc cringed. It was a body. A small, female body.

The face was hidden by a cloud of dark hair. Red wisps poured from a gash in the front of her dress. The Stylo was now close enough for Murdoc to see slices in the knuckles of one of the outstretched arms. Everything outside of the sub seemed to move slower than it should. He was caught in a horrified trance.

A siren whistled from his dashboard. A second later, the metal shark was pushed to the side. From the darker waters reached a large hand. It folded gently around the woman and lifted her to the surface.

Attached to that hand was the rest of Russel Hobbs. He was taller than all of Plastic Beach. His massive head turned towards Murdoc. The large, milky eyes settled on the captain before darting back to his delicate find.

The giant drummer launched towards the beach, pushing the submarine in the opposite direction. Startled, Murdoc turned the submarine around and sailed full speed to the nearest continent. Before he caught up with the other submarines, he could have sworn that he heard something in the distance.

He heard Russel's heartbroken roar.


	4. Chapter 3

Russel's hesitantly opened his trembling hand. In his palm rested Noodle. He gently turned her from her side onto her back. The drummer brushed the hair away from her face, praying that she was alright. She was strong. Noodle could handle anything. . .

At first, she appeared to be sleeping, but Russ soon realized that her green eyes had faded to white. Noodle's arms rested by her side.

There wasn't a smile. There wasn't a "thanks, Russ". There wasn't any movement or sign of life. She was completely still. He looked down at the wound in her abdomen. The full realization and shock of what happened hit.

The giant closed his hand. He took a large breath of tarnished air and shook the island with a deafening cry.

It was like the El Mañana shoot all over again. This time, though, he knew what happened. He knew that she wasn't going to be okay. This time there was proof.

He wanted to hold his little girl like he had when she had stage fright. Like he had when she woke up with nightmares. He wanted to hug her like the morning before the accident, but he was eighty feet too tall. He couldn't help her. He could only grieve.

"Take care of her, Del."


End file.
